


Steve Rogers and the Two-Day Mission

by TaraSoleil



Series: Ice Bear Has Many Secrets [2]
Category: Captain America, MCU, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraSoleil/pseuds/TaraSoleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a mission, but he can't do it alone. Ice Bear to the rescue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve Rogers and the Two-Day Mission

Captain America sat back, scowling. The figure opposite the picture of defiance. Despite being stripped to practically nothing, secured in an unbreakable chair and made to sit for close to an hour, she wasn’t budging. Over the span of the last hour, she had only opened her mouth to taunt him, which is precisely what she was doing now.

“Fine,” he said sternly. “You want me to call in the big guns?”

No reply, not that he had expected one.

He pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed the number from memory. It took a moment to connect, and in that brief span of time he wondered if he was doing the right thing. He was Steve Rogers, Captain America, defender of the free world. He ought to be able to handle this. At the thought, he cancelled the call. He could do this.

“New plan,” he said, the smile that overtook his face clearly a threat, though she didn't seem to realize it and laughed.

He dialed a new number. Before the man on the other end could offer a greeting, Steve was talking. “Bucky, I need you for this one.”

“You said you could handle it,” his friend replied, but Steve’s keen ears could hear the sound of the door opening through the phone line, hear the heavy metallic thud of it closing. He didn’t bother responding, and hung up as the man let himself into Steve and Darcy’s apartment. His intentionally heavy footfalls made it clear just what he thought of Steve’s skill in the matter at hand, for he moved silent as a whisper unless he chose otherwise.

Bucky stopped in the kitchen doorway, frowning his displeasure as he looked between a flustered Steve and the child squirming in her highchair.

“She won’t eat,” Steve admitted, shame coloring his voice as well as his face. “I’ve tried everything. Done it all just the way Darcy does, but it doesn’t work when I do it. Not even the stupid airplane noise.”

The man sighed and shoved himself off the jamb. “Leave it to Ice Bear.”

The girl smiled as he dropped into the chair Steve had vacated moments earlier, eying the child before him. Little Sarah Rogers was naked save her diaper, her torso coated in her father’s failed attempts to fly food into her mouth. The rolls of fat on her flailing arms made it look as if she had four elbows on each arm. Her whine and escape attempt ended with Bucky’s appearance, the gummy grin she offered interrupted by two tiny teeth.

“Oh, you think Ice Bear is here to spring you,” Bucky said affectionately. “Ice Bear is actually here to steal your dinner.” He plucked one carrot off her table and sucked it into his mouth with far more noise than was strictly necessary.

The girl’s chubby cheeks fell as she pouted at him. Her hands reached for his face as she mimicked his exaggerated chewing.

“You want one? Ice Bear is willing to share with Sare-Bear,” he offered her a piece of soft carrot that had been warm an hour ago but was now room temperature. Pudgy little fingers grabbed at his, wrapping around the metal digits and dragging them close enough to take the food in her mouth. She grinned proudly as she chewed the carrot into a mush that dribbled from her mouth.

“How the hell did you do that?” Steve demanded.

“Ice Bear is filled with secrets,” he cooed at the girl. “Isn’t that right, Sare-Bear?” The girl replied by taking another carrot from his fingertips.

“Sometimes I hate you.”

“Ice Bear doesn’t care about Steve anymore. He has Sare-Bear now.” His nose wrinkled and face scrunched in affection, making the girl gurgle a laugh that broke even Captain America’s righteous scowl.

He fed the girl until there was nothing left on her table; then, without prompting, he lifted her up and carried her to the kitchen sink, filling it with water, the sensors in his prosthetic hand measuring the precise temperature of the small bath he was making. From under the sink, he pulled a bottle of the creamy, tear-free, lavender-scented bath soap Darcy insisted was the best for Sarah.

“How did you know that was there?” Steve questioned, peering around the man’s legs to see what else he might be concealing in their kitchen.

“Ice Bear—“

“Has many secrets, yeah, yeah,” he groaned and slumped against the counter as his friend proved a far more proficient parent. “When are you going to share some of these secrets so I can stop looking like an ass in front of my wife?”

Bucky grinned as his goddaughter splashed in the sink, sending water onto the counter and all over both men. “All you need to do is use your eyes.”

“I’m using them. I see and copy and still fail.”

“Whiners never win. Remember that, Sare-Bear,” he told the girl in a soft voice.

“You are such an asshole,” Steve muttered under his breath.

Bucky offered him a smug grin as the child began to relax beneath the gentle stroking of the soft flannel cloth. Steve had spent an hour that morning with his daughter in that very sink; all he got from her was sopping wet clothes and a child with water in her ear, which he, of course, had to Google to find how to safely remove before it cause some sort of infection.

As he stood in doubt of his daughter reaching her second birthday should Darcy have to travel to another conference at a time when Bucky was unavailable, his friend took Sarah from the sink and wrapped her in a towel that he somehow had on hand. The girl fussed and offers a weak cry of protest, but settled against his chest as the man bobbed and patted her back and made his way toward the living room. Steve followed in his wake, staring at the girl’s face resting on the man’s shoulder.

He threw himself petulantly at the couch and glared at his friend as the child calmed further under his attention, lulled to near-sleep by the gentle sway of each silent step.

When a burp finally came from her drowsy mouth, Bucky pulled the girl away, wiping her mouth with a corner of the fluffy towel. Sarah whined and fussed, reaching for his neck, but it made no difference. He walked purposefully toward Steve, depositing the girl on his chest. Steve froze, and she started crying.

"You do it," Steve insisted, moving to lift the girl away and return her to the man she preferred.

"She's not my kid, Steve," Bucky said, stepping away and folding his arms across his chest, the whir of his prosthetic sounding oddly disapproving.

"But, you're better at this. Just--"

"You're afraid of her."

"I'm afraid of _hurting_ her," he corrected.

"She isn't made of glass," the man said.

Bucky moved closer. He thought it was to collect the crying child, but Bucky was never that kind or that obvious. His strong hands shoved Steve against the back of the couch, lifted his legs and set his feet on the coffee table until he was reclining on the soft blue seat. Those hard hands moved toward Sarah, making Steve tense and Sarah cry louder.

"Stop worrying," he ordered, and gently pressed the girls head against Steve's chest. "You hold her there."

Steve obeyed, cradling the girl's head against his chest, holding it there with a delicate but firm pressure. He stared at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand tick slowly around, counting each low 'tick' that passed as Sarah's cried quieted to nothing and her little body stilled on his.

"She's asleep," Steve whispered, more in wonder than any attempt to keep from waking her.

"Because you stopped worrying. Now sit there and don't tense up," Bucky ordered in a low voice.

Again, Steve obeyed. He sat, relaxed and still for the first time since his daughter had been born. Bucky, as usual, was right. He was afraid of her. She was so small and fragile, his entire hand could wrap around her body when she was born. How could he not worry that he might hurt her? The first week she was home, he couldn't do more than just stroke her head with a single finger while Darcy held her. He hadn't gained much more confidence than that, not until this very moment.

With her slight weight resting on his chest and tiny fist curled into his shirt, he drifted off to sleep.

"I'm home!" the call roused him, but not enough to bother moving. Sarah was still sleeping on his chest and he didn't want to disturb her.

Darcy hurried through the apartment, scattering her bags and coat as she made her way toward the living room. She appeared in the doorway, a vision in blue jeans and another one of her hideous sweaters. The smiled on her face was beatific.

"You survived!"

"It was only two days," Steve muttered.

"Yes, but I know what you're like with Sare-Bear," she replied. "She isn't made of glass."

"That's what Bucky said, too."

"Ice Bear is very wise. You should learn some of his many secrets," Darcy said sagely. "It's worked wonders for my parenting skills."

Steve stared at her. "Seriously? That's where you learned it?"

His wife snorted. "Dude, you honestly think I know what I'm doing? That man has been the only thing keeping our daughter alive for the past year. I'm crap at parenting."

Bucky appeared in the doorway. Neither of them reacted; they were so used to the man sliding from shadows. His face was the picture of smugness. "Ice Bear expects a very nice Christmas gift for his efforts."

"Ice Bear cannot have Sarah," Darcy replied, her voice colder than the man’s mad nickname.

"Damn,” he sighed. “Worth a try."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally write this sort of thing. I like the angst and drama of relationships forming, not the mushy rainbows and butterflies of established ones. 
> 
> ...But I also love Ice Bear. So if it means some mushy butterflies, I'll deal with it. 
> 
> Please let me know if I did all right. I can't guarantee any further installments even if you tell me it's fab, but it will at least make me feel better about veering so far from my comfort zone.


End file.
